


What's in a name?

by Mickeysam



Series: Taking in Strays [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Minor Angst, established romanogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 14:25:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18153026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mickeysam/pseuds/Mickeysam
Summary: Names are important, even in the modern world. Names are also complicated, and somehow harder to choose than Steve ever thought.





	What's in a name?

"What do you think of Dante?"

  


Steve's brow furrowed as he tried to place the name, but no one came to mind. "Dante who?" he asked, pausing mid shading patch as he worked in one of the many sketch books he kept stashed around their home, and the base.

  


"The name Dante." Natasha clarified. The baby was snuggled in her arms, working noisily at his bottle, and he couldn't think of a nicer sight than the two of them.

  


"I thought we were sticking with what his birth mother called him?" Steve set his pencil down on the page. "That's what we've been using."

  


"People do tend to have more than one name. Typically they have a middle and last as well," she pointed it out only slightly obvious in her teasing him for not catching on.

  


"Ilya Dante?" Steve wrinkled his nose.

  


"So that's a pass. How about you? Any suggestions?" She moved when he came to sat next to her on the couch, leaning back into him instead of the back rest, "Any names you've thought on?"

  


"Not... really?" Steve wrapped his arm around her shoulders, resting it on Ilya's feet and smiling at the little disgruntled kick he received. "Baby names never really entered into my thoughts... ever, honestly."

  


"No? Huh. How about... James? James is an important name to you," the suggestion was soft, and made Steve smile.

  


"Do you know how many James' I know?"

  


"Mmm one in particular."

  


Steve pressed a kiss to her temple and shook his head, "That would be too much weight on one kid. Besides, I'd have to face the laughter from James Barnes, James Falsworth, James Morita, Jacques Deriner, James Rhodes, not to mention Jimmy Morita, Jamie Falsworth, there's Carter's James and Jamie-" He listed off on his fingers until she laughed and elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

  


"Point taken. James is off the list. Could go traditional and use your name."

  


"Ilya Steven. If James was heavy, that's a bus on top of the kid. Do you even need middle names?" Steve questioned, since everything else was weird and suddenly kids could be named after random items, things spelled backwards, or even random names mushed together. "Do you have one?"

  


Natasha gave a half shrug, "A patronymic if we go with the original name I was given at birth, or wherever they named me. For English... Clint attempted to make them give me a middle name, but ultimately it was decided I didn't need one."

  


"How many people did you choke out before that decision was made?"

  


She scoffed, "No one. I did give him a dead arm though when he suggested 'Grace'."

  


"I think the only worse name that I could think of would be 'Patience'."

  


Natasha tilted her head back against his shoulder, "You may be super strong, but I bet I could dead arm you too."

  


"Love you, darling." Steve impishly kissed the corner of her mouth.

  


"You're lucky you're cute. Think about it, okay? Names. The sooner it's sorted out the sooner we can get all the right papers done and make him completely ours."

  


* * *

 

  


_'How about Joseph?'_ was the Text Steve received a day later, while sat at the gym in the Avengers compound. She could have just walked from their room, or the normal rooms upstairs, and down through to the gym, but texting was faster.

And less energy consuming.

  


_'Why the name Joseph?'_ he texted back meticulously.

  


A minute later she replied a link to his own Wikipedia page, where it dropped him down to the section about his parents. More specifically to the four whole sentences devoted to his father, which included an estimated birth date based on old immigration records, a death date, and a single mournful sentence about dying before he could see his son born.

There weren't even any pictures of Joseph Rogers on the page. Then again the only known picture of the man Steve had ever seen was the one he'd buried with his mother, so it was likely none existed anymore.

He tried not to look over the section about his mother, or the plethora of photos of both Sarah Rogers and her tiny son – Donated by the Barnes family or by certain Carters no doubt - and closed the page.

  


_'Oh.'_

  


_'No go?'_

  


_'I never met the man.'_ Steve hesitated on typing more, trying to sort out his thoughts, but eventually hit send as Sam and Rhodey arrived, both in their gear ready to train. 

  


"Ready to get your ass handed to you?" Sam asked, stretching and popping his back.

  


Steve rolled his eyes, "C'mon, two on one? That's hardly fair. Go get about... eh a dozen more and then you might be able to. I'm ready for a warm up though."

  


\-----

  


Maybe not quite a warm up, with how many times both men in plain clothes only had managed to work together to get him on the ground or off balance, off guard.

  


"C'mon man, where's your head at?"

  


Steve dodged a punch aimed at his head, countering it with a light elbow to Sam's back, "Multiple places."

  


"It's the baby," Rhodey clicked his tongue, leg jutting out to try and trip Steve, forcing him off balance, into Sam who actually landed a smack to his shoulders, "Keeping you up all night."

  


Sam cursed as Steve shoved him backwards, shook his head, "No, Cap never sleeps. You regretting the dad thing yet? Panicking over losing all freedom?" 

  


Steve shot him a look and Sam just smiled sweetly, "No, I'm not panicking, or regretting anything. I'm stuck on baby names." He threw his hands out in annoyance, watching Sam who seemed content to sit on his ass on the gym mats for the moment, "Why do kids need a middle name?"

  


Apparently Rhodey was not content to take a breather like Sam, and collided with Steve, knee to his solar plexus to haul him down briefly, "To honor people. Having trouble picking one?"

  


Steve grunted, trying to regain his breath, twisting to toss Rhodey off of him, "Honor who?"

  


"I'd throw my name into the ring," Sam grabbed his water bottle, taking a drink and analyzing the situation. Steve was certain he'd end up with a knee to the back of his any moment. "But I don't think anyone wants a 'Samuel Rogers', just no good ring to it."

  


"Ilya, it's just the middle name we're missing."

  


"Call him after me," Rhodey joked. "James is a great name."

  


"Yeah, Barnes, Falsworth, Morita, Deriner, Dugan, Carter, and a few juniors agree."

  


"Use your name then, ego it up." and there was the knee he was expecting, however it glanced off the back of his thigh, and he rolled with it, knocking Sam of and leaping backwards. "Ilya Steven."

  


"Pass. Hard pass." Steve deadpanned, trying to sweep Rhodey's legs from under him without sending the man into the ground too hard.

  


"You got a dad to name him after?"

  


Steve shook his head, "Dead before I was born. Don't even remember what he looked like."

  


"Fine, one of the guys who made you then." Rhodey held up his hands in a T sign, breathing heavily. "Made you all... Mr. America."

  


Steve stepped back and sat down against the wall, grabbing his water bottle. "You mean Abraham, Chester, or Howard?"

  


"Abraham or Chester... That's just wrong, man."

  


"You're not trying to 'save the good name', are you?" Rhodey asked it but Sam tilted his head when he did, making a face.

  


"Save the good name?" Steve repeated blankly.

  


"Yeah you know, for the next one."

  


Sam made a noise, looking at Steve, "Some people want to name their kid something but then... don't. Like," He trailed off a moment, "In the past, actually, how you'd name your kid after you but then the kid'd die so you name the next one for you. Or if the kid had something weird you'd name the next kid for you instead."

  


"Weird." Steve just repeated after him. Graveyards were littered with Juniors, many bearing the same man's name, but they were past the days when typhoid could wipe out a whole family, or when being a few weeks early was a death sentence. There were vaccines and NICUs now. 

  


"Disabled in some way. Or," Rhodey set his bottle aside and sat up straight, crossing his legs, "adopted. Might wanna make sure the kid who has your name is  _your_ kid, and save it for the next one."

  


"Oh." Steve's mind went blank at that, and he had to push back the anger at the assumption.   
  


'The next one', as if adoption meant Ilya wasn't his child. Or that Ilya would be treated any differently from any other child he might have. Some people might think he was waiting on a 'perfect' child to give his name, or that he thought Ilya was lesser than a biological child that would never happen.

  


No one else knew that a biological child wasn't a possibility, that there wasn't the barest chance of it happening ever. And that he was perfectly fine with that.

  


"Not that that's what you're doing," Sam spoke up first, "At all. But you really can't think of any names you'd want to give a child?"

  


"I didn't have that many men close to me who's names didn't already pass on. Some multiple times." Steve answered, feeling guiltier now for denying names. Did Natasha think he was turning down names because he was wanting to 'save' them for another child?

Surely she wouldn’t think that way, obviously they weren't waiting on a biological child, and there was no way in hell he was running off to find someone else to pass his weird experimental genes on to.   "And I don't think he's a fit for 'Sarah'."

  


Sam snorted, "Yeah, that's probably a no."

  


\-----

  


"Hey, what's wrong, Champ?" Steve jogged up the few steps to the mutual living area shared by the residential area of the compound. Ilya lay in his baby bouncer, blue light crackling around him as he cried, sound warbling with the force of his unhappiness. "You okay?" 

  


"He's hungry. Working on bottle now," Natasha answered for the baby, already behind the island in the kitchen putting together one. "Tried to hold him while doing it, but that blue stuff likes to shut off anything I try to use to heat up water."

  


"That's no good." Steve braved the electrical sting that felt almost like static to undo the buckles that held Ilya in place, scooping him from the seat. "It's okay, buddy, Mama's working on it. See?" he probably couldn't, Steve had to acknowledge, Google said babies couldn't see very far when they were this little, but being held and talked to seemed to be helping him calm down. "Mama's almost got it for you." Steve bounced him lightly, cradling the baby to his chest, and the blue started to recede. "Think he's going to freak out every time he's hungry an it's not ready in an instant?"

  


"Most babies do. Or at least Lila did." Natasha carefully measured out powder into the glass bottles they'd obtained, mixing in the hot water. "He probably has some pretty bad memories of being hungry too."

  


Steve winced, "Yeah, probably. I'm sorry, buddy," He told Ilya who didn't seem to care about the apology. "Here, I'll do it." he held his hand out to Natasha for the bottle when she brought it in, sitting down on the couch. Ilya latched on immediately with an impatient noise, feet kicking out and the light disappearing completely. "See? There we go, Daddy's gotcha."  


  


"Have fun beating up the Chair force boys?" Natasha moved the baby bouncer back under the table, cleaning up the tiny bit of mess Ilya's things could create.

  


"Yeah. They do better when Clint's on their side though." The practice arrows were a pain in the ass to avoid. Ilya was settled now, content to work noisily at his bottle, eyes closed with his hands up against his cheeks.

Ilya didn't look like he cared about anything in the world right now, bar his milk. Would he think he'd been treated differently if Steve didn't contribute some deep and meaningful name to him?

  


Natasha didn't seem like she was holding anything against him for not agreeing to Joseph over text. She even brought him one of his protein drinks from the fridge when she returned with her own coffee, sitting next to him on the couch.

  


"You're not mad about Joseph?" He risked asking anyway. No one had ever accused him of being a genius.

  


"Why would I be? Your family, your veto power." Natasha capped his drink and set it on the floor beside her when he handed it back. "If you don't want to use it, we don't have to."

  


"I never met him. You read the article. Dead at war before I took my first breath. My mom... she had one photo of him that I remember. I tucked it in with her when we buried her, felt it meant more to her than me." Steve focused on the baby in his arms, "I don't remember what he looked like in the photo besides he was wearing a uniform. The serum makes everything crisp and perfect, but anything I saw before that fades, and I hadn't seen his photo in about 5 years when they shot me full of it."

  


"We don't have to use the name if you don't want to," Natasha leaned against him, sitting sideways so she could tuck her arm behind him, hold him somewhat, head on his arm, "Really, I'm okay with it."

  


"You don't think I'm... 'saving the good name', right?"

  


The moment he said it, he wanted to take it back, sure she'd think it was just as dumb as he did.

  


"Saving the good name." Natasha sounded as baffled as he'd felt earlier. "Like waiting to use it somewhere else?"

  


"Yeah."

  


Natasha reached out her hand, touching one of Ilya's and his eyes fluttered open briefly in response. "As in a pet or..."

  


"Or." Steve answered.

  


"Huh."

  


"Rhodey said it, not me." Steve tried to explain feeling dumb and more than a little conflicted. He rearranged with minimal protesting from Ilya so he could face her, "And Sam. Sort of, Sam just expanded. He said some guys want to give their name, or a name they like more, to their own kids, or kids that don't have issues."

  


"If I thought you were the type of guy to do something like that I wouldn't be with you in the first place." Natasha just looked at him, "'Saving for your own kid'-"

  


"Is not happening. Ever. Never." Steve interrupted her, "At all. Not in that sense anyway. He is my own kid. I just... my names suck, okay?"

  


She laughed, "They suck? Really?"

  


"I can name him James and he can join the legion of Howlie descendants with that name. Or I can call him Steven and have the weight of the world and living up to  _me_ on his shoulders. I can go with my dad, but I don't know the first thing about him. And let's be fair, you'd hate naming him after anyone who created me."

  


"First or last name?" Natasha considered, "Abraham might be nicer than Erskine, but I will veto any Stark related names."

  


"And he's as far from a 'Chester' as you can get," Steve sighed, "See? God knows Rogers would be too heavy to carry as well."

  


"Rogers is a very common last name," Natasha frowned, "Very common."

  


"Not when your dad is Steve Rogers."

  


Natasha shook her head, "I don't think Romanov would be any better. They'd hear it and think me."

  


"TV has taught me they'd hear it and think mysterious disappeared Russian royals first," Steve disagreed, trying to make her smile, "while in New York, if you hear Rogers you'll think Captain America. Plus," He nudged her leg lightly with his, "Ilya Rogers is some sort of stuffy history teacher who smells like beets and gives you dusty books from the 60s to study. Ilya Romanov is a super hero who fights for the little man."

  


Natasha rolled her eyes, resting her hand back on his arm, "You think way too much. Did you know that?"

  


"Yeah... I've been told. Can we make a deal?"

  


"Depends on what the deal is." Natasha took the bottle when he handed it to her, sitting Ilya up and against his shoulder so he could get the now whining baby to burp.

  


"You name him, after something that's important to you, or even just a name you really like, and I'll take any sisters he gets." Steve half pleaded.

  


Natasha stared at him a moment, "Sister? Seriously?"

  


Steve gave a helpless half shrug, "Average lifespan these days is into your 80s. We're weird. I figure if we survive next weekend we probably have a shot at making it into our 90s. Longer if Stark creates more androids to put peoples consciousnesses into. I'm sure at some point in the next sixty something years we'll find at least one other little one who needs help or a home. And if not well, that's okay too."

  


"So you're trading me naming this guy, for the ability to name a hypothetical, possibly non existent child in the future?"

  


"Exactly," Steve grinned, "Deal?"

  


"You don't want any veto powers at all? None?" Natasha almost looked impish as she met Steve's eyes, ignoring his offered hand. "I mean, I could pick something you'd loathe.'

  


"As long as you pick something I can pronounce, and it's not 'Clinton' I'm sure I'll be fine with it."

  


Natasha just watched him for a moment then leaned forward, ignoring his offered hand to kiss him instead, sealing their little deal. "You might regret that."

  


"Why's that?" Steve handed her Ilya when she held her hands out, letting her resettle the baby in her arms to give him the last of his bottle.

  


"You can face down those who see his papers when it gets back to Fury that Steve Rogers' son is Ilya Nicholas Romanov." The look she gave him had him almost wanting to go back on his deal, and halfway wanting to laugh. "What? Fury's important to me, but I'm not naming my kid 'Fury'."

  


"That... was a very quick naming choice." Steve conceded, leaning against the back of the couch and trying not to picture Fury's face at the choice. He might be in trouble now.  


  


"You really think I only had one name in my mind at a time?"

  


"No... I... I really shouldn't. You have back up plans for your backups’ backup."

  


**Author's Note:**

> Planned? What is planning? If you have any comments, questions, suggestions, prompts, feel feel to leave them here, or go yell at me on tumblr (anon or otherwise!): https://mysteriousangstninja.tumblr.com/


End file.
